


Born Of Fire

by Verbophobic



Category: One Piece
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, how marine ford went, it's most an OC story, marco's child, might turn it into the backstory of an oc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 15:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6616576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verbophobic/pseuds/Verbophobic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco had a friend once, but like all people they died while he survived. But there was something they left behind, something that he was keen on keeping. </p><p>Marco/Oc; friends with benifits<br/>Marco/Oc; friends, no benifits<br/>Marco/Ace; relationship</p>
            </blockquote>





	Born Of Fire

Marco was old, he’d fallen in and out of love, lived and lost, and he knew better than to ever love a woman again after the last time. So while he didn’t love the black haired beauty, they were indeed close friends. Friends and then some. She just wanted fun times with someone that she trusted, and he didn’t mind. It meant a lot more to him every time they coupled because he knew while it wasn’t love and it was mostly lust, she trusted him as her friend.

He had a mission though and he would be leaving soon, so he agreed to meet up with her one final time before leaving because he wasn’t sure when he’d come back, that was the life of a pirate afterall. She just laughed and wished him luck before leading him to her bed. 

They never kissed, it was an unspoken rule between the two. Kissing was… kissing was far more intimate to them both than sex. Sex was just a workout filled with pleasure and trust. Kissing was giving your heart away; so they never kissed. 

Yet as Marco said his final goodbyes she pulled him close and her lips landed on his cheek. He smiled, knowing it wasn’t her giving him her heart, but rather her giving him an invitation, family.

.~:*:~.

Marco was weary, it had been so long since he’d been to this island. He heard rumors; the girl he had once been friends with was ill. It was a deadly illness that grew within the body and there was no cure for the tumors that latched on and sucked the life out of the person. He had been desperate, she and him had kept in contact for so long, letters back and forth. She mentioned how when he left, he had given her a real surprise. A gift she did not want and couldn’t get rid of, but was ever thankful for.

When he’d asked about it, she had told him that he’d brought someone into her life, someone she loved more than anything and would give anything up for. He never visited after that, not wanting to complicate her life even though she had told him that the person knew about him. He’d felt so awkward thinking about it, but now that was gone.

He’d meet the person for the first time and reunite with his old friend and give her a new life if she wanted it. The fruit he had searched for was safe in the small chest he carried. He would give it to her and if she accepted, he would invite her to join the crew though he was only inviting out of respect. Marco knew she wouldn’t accept it. She was a land lover and not a seafaring woman.

He knocked on the door and waited for who he supposed would be his friends lover. Whoever they were with how sick the woman said she was, would be the one to answer the door.

Marco swore his heart stopped and skipped a beat. The door opened and he looked down. Down, down, down. “Hi.” A small child said. A toddler at oldest. A gift. Something the woman hadn’t wanted but couldn’t get rid of. Someone that she loved more than life.

A child. He- he was a father.

Marco kneeled down to her height and his hand reached out. She didn’t move as his hand touched her hair. He practically pet her, running fingers through her hair, his eyes widened more. Her hair, while far longer than his, was just like his. Under the length she was nearly bald on the sides- and he assumed the back too- the soft short hair looked almost like it was shaved, but he had a feeling it would never grow. Her eyes looked up at him and he couldn’t see anything but that deep blue. It was like looking at a mirror and seeing his own eyes but on a different face. The face of his long time friend.

“Yer-” He couldn’t get the words out and she tilted her head before smiling. 

“Mama talks about ya a lot. She says yer her best friend and my papa. Or at least ya look like the one she talks about.” Reaching up, she took his hand from her hair and tugged it gently. Someone, she was silently saying as she started to lead him inside.

.~:*:~.

Marco stood at a gravestone, flowers he’d just purchased laid on the fresh soil. His friend, refused the fruit and begged him- begged him- to give it to her, no their child when she was older, especially if the doctors found the disease within the child as she grew. The fruit he had hidden and always kept an eye on the young girl.

His friend had survived two agonizing years before the illness won out and she passed away. The now six year old child was alone except for him and he couldn’t bring her to the ship. As much as he wanted to keep her close, he knew how dangerous it was. The marines watched him every time he left and he had luckily been able to keep them away from this island. But he’d rushed this time, he knew he’d have to stay away for a while to keep the marines off his trail.

A tiny hand grabbed his and the girl looked up. She pulled her lips back and gave him a gap toothed smile. He remembered that his teeth had been much like that as a child too. “Mama is better now, right? She’s safe down there an- and no more pain, the Doctor says.” How simple it was for her. Just tell the child her mother was out of pain and safe even if they could never see each other again. Marco smiled back at her and nodded.

The little girl really took after him. He was happy his friend was dead, only because she was no longer in pain. He missed her, but knew that she wasn’t hurting anymore and that was better than any long life he had hoped to see her have. “Ah won’ be back fer a long while, yoi. Tha bad people ah told ya ‘bout are close.” He moved to kneel next to the child and he ran his hands through her hair. He loved playing with it and feeling the silky strands and seeing how much she just looked like a combination of him and her mother.

“Okay, but ya will come back, right?” He’d worked hard with her to get rid of that speech tick she had inherited. It was broken down to one or two words now and he was glad that it was simple words that many people had slurred.

“Of course, yoi. Yer my daughter an’ ah won’ ever ‘bandon ya. When ah come back, ya will be bigger an’ stronger and ah might be able ta stay longer. Ya know how ta write ta me, if tha doctors ever say anythin’ bout ya bein’ sick like yer mother, ah’ll return within’ days. Ah’ll make sure ya never feel tha pain like her, yoi.” He gripped her hair a bit tight before relaxing his hold and turning the child around. He tugged at her hair for a short while before he got it decent looking and a hairband now held it back, showing off the ‘shaved’ sides.

She turned back to him and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. “I’ll write ya every day, an’ ya-” He flicked her ear gently. “And ya gotta- got to- have to,” She struggled to get the proper words and pronunciations, but barely managed. “Ya have to write me too! Please?”

He hugged her tighter and nodded. He knew he’d break his promise to her mother because of how much he loved this tiny child. The fruit would be given to her- sickness or not- when she reached an age he deemed acceptable.

.~:*:~.

Thatch had always been too nosey for his own good and one thing led to another between him and Marco. Nothing intimate or anything, but Thatch wished to have a pen pal like Marco had. Reluctantly he allowed Thatch to write a short letter- one he oversaw and threatened to beat Thatch to a bloody pulp if he wrote anything the elder deemed unacceptable to put into the letter. He never explained that his ‘pen pal’ was a child of eight by now, or that she was his daughter. He let Thatch know the rules for what to put into the letter- no sexual content, no flirting, no questions about her family or who she was- and definitely not where she was- and once Thatch agreed and adhered to those rules, he allowed the cook to write to her.

Marco explained to his daughter about his friend and she was thrilled to have another to talk to. She loved reading the letters and writing to both of them. By the age of nine, Izou had started writing too, simply because he had mistakenly grabbed a letter Marco wrote for her instead of the report he had meant to grab. 

One rule he had kept in place and was very thorough about was her name. They were not allowed to know it. Not a single consonant or vowel was to be shared and when Thatch had asked what to call her she had only given an alias; Mistwatch. Marco was not very happy with it, but figured let her play her small game. 

He remembered how when he visited her when she was still so young and small, they’d play hide and seek and she was good. She always watched him and he had no idea how. It was like she hid within a mist. So he’d called her his little mist-watcher. 

A letter came in earlier than normal and was addressed to only him, none for Thatch or Izou much to his worry. He tore the letter open right away while still on the deck and read the contents. She was alerting him that the Marines had invaded the island. They were searching for someone, and upon not finding them, the Marines had chosen to make the invasion- oops, the marines didn’t call it that least they seem like bad men- the reconnaissance of the island into a recruiting station.

No one was safe apparently. They took whoever they wanted and an orphan girl that had no one at all was perfect. They’d conscripted her along with half the children on the island. Marco was infuriated and asked Pops to save the island, to help. He may have wanted to tear everything apart, but there was a broken look to him behind that anger that Whitebeard didn’t question his firstmate and they set sail. 

It took almost a week to get there and Marco was thrilled that so many of the divisions had come together to help. The World Government would gain a wake up call from this, the islands under Pops were not allowed to be invaded and the people were free too. They were allowed a choice and the Marines were not allowed to steal that away.

It took a few hours, but the crew came out on top and the marines, bloodied, defeated, and some dead, retreated. The conscripted people were released and Marco fretted still. He hurried away, searching, ever searching, but never finding. Thatch brought to him a clipboard of names and Marco scanned through them quickly.

Next to every name was a short description of their enlistment or denial. Too young, too weak, sick, exceptional, acceptable, lively, deceased. He skipped right to the M’s and searched. Mackenzie; Deceased. The board fell and he couldn’t understand. How- had they been too late? He knew the nine year old was defiant, but not even Marines could be that cruel- could they?

Thatch had looked over Marco’s shoulder to watch and read. “Mackenzie? That’s such an odd forename.” Thatch mumbled and Marco let out a wearied sound. 

“Ah liked it, better than tha name her mother had given her. Named her after her father, an’ ah couldn’t let that stand, too recognizable, yoi. Ah called her Kenzie, ya called her Mistwatch.” He let his words sink in and the cook looked horrified as he tore the board away to look over it twice to make sure that the description was on the same line as the name and not above or below it.

.~:*:~.

A letter arrived and Marco just stared at it. Over two months ago they had liberated the island, but there were so many deceased that it had felt more like a loss than anything else. In the letter though, one written in such a familiar script he shook and felt ill. 

All of the ‘deceased’ had been stowed away on a ship and sent off as fast as possible. The government had known Whitebeard would reach to one of his islands being invaded like it had, so the ones with the most potential were taken away. The marines had heard about a fruit being hidden on the island and all they had found was an empty chest. She was sorry for taking the fruit and consuming it, but she had know that Marco would rather her have it than the government. 

She wouldn’t be able to write as much anymore because she was officially forced into taking the marine title and she would be unable to escape for a while. She explained to him that she would accept the training and when she could, she’d get free. She’d start her own adventure from here.

As happy as Marco was that she had survived- had eaten the fruit- he was worried. It was a powerful fruit that he wasn’t sure about the effects of. It would keep her from ever getting sick, but he didn’t know what else it would do to her.

With a sigh that everyone knew meant that the Phoenix would allow something, but not be pleased about it, he stowed the letter away and prepared himself for if he ever met her on the sea. He would make sure that Thatch, himself, or Izou went up against her if her crew ever wandered near theirs. It would be her best bet for getting out alive and fairly unharmed. He wished that he could just go and grab her then hide her away upon the Moby.

.~:*:~.

Ace had joined in with letters quite a few years later when the young man joined. He wrote pages upon pages and sent them to her. One at a time of course, possibly two if necessary, but with how close he and Marco were growing, the phoenix had to allow him to write to Kenzie. Talking like old friends might and Marco chuckled knowing that his young lover was a little bit older than his child. 

From the few letters they exchanged anymore Marco learned his daughter approved of Ace and supported the budding relationship between the two fire users. She told him about her own ‘relationships’ and he was not very pleased by them. He didn’t think many- if any- were good enough for her. She wasn’t serious about any and wasn’t coerced into any either. She genuinely just wanted to get along with a person.

Often she wished for her own ‘Ace’ to come and Marco had burst out laughing at that. He imagined some young man that fell asleep randomly, that liked to fight, and grinned far too much at everything, his poor daughter would get so irritated the poor ‘Ace’ she wished for would likely end up beaten. 

The letters stopped for a long while when Ace left. Thatch was comatose and the Nurses feared he may never reawaken. Ace had left to go after Teach, to avenge their fallen brother no matter what anyone said to him. It had hurt so much when Ace left, because he wasn’t just going on a mission but he was leaving Marco behind.

It was a random letter from Kenzie that alerted Marco to what happened. To Teach capturing and turning the young man over to the government. She didn’t know if there would be an execution or not, but she knew that he needed to know and due to the capture of Ace, her base station would be under firmer security and her letters would have to stop for a long while. But she swore that after this she was done, she was defecting and leaving for good.

Marco didn’t reply, the letter was warning enough that they might be reading the letters from now on. But he worried. Worried about Thatch, about Ace, about his daughter, and about everything that was soon to come. Of course he told Pops about the letters contents, and the planning to save Ace began.

.~:*:~.

It had been hell. Almost all marines were at Marineford and he prayed his daughter had left. That she had defected or resigned and wasn’t here. There was no way for him to focus on her, he had to save Ace.

Ace- Ace was on a raised podium. Two high up marines- one of which was Ace’s grandfather- and three lower ranking ones were with him. One behind Garp and the other two with blades at the ready.

Marco knew he’d never make it, he had to help and focus on getting Luffy to the podium. Something told him it would work, that all he had to do was help the young boy to his brother and they’d escape, they’d get free.

When Ace was running with Luffy, an unknown marine discreetly followed them, he had stupidly let himself hope. Let himself relax just enough and everything went to hell. Seastone on him, hurt from Kizaru, and with Sengoku after the brothers, he knew that his hope was shattered. The magma user raised a burning, bubbling fist and aimed. Through the fire user the hand went and Marco shrieked in agony as he felt the life slipping out of his other half, his mate. The marine that had been stalking the duo grabbed Ace as his body fell and caught him. Not letting him harshly hit the ground even as Sengoku was preparing to hurt them to for insubordination.

But a hand raised to block themselves and the hit never landed. Luffy has scrambled away and grabbed the marine to pull them out of the way of the hit. Before Sengoku could launch another attack, marines began falling, shutting down and Marco could see the red hair that pushed out such power that no one was left uneffected. 

As the war came to an end, the small Marine held onto Ace and began to make their way towards Marco. The large man in their arms making the move awkward, but Marco was frozen. Ace- his Ace- his everything- dead.

But as he looked up and that Marine hat fell off with a powerful gust of wind, he gawped. “Kenzie-” His child just smiled at him and dropped Ace ungracefully. The boy yelled and she scuffed.

“Ya lazy bum, get outta here ‘for they call off the ceasefire.” Alive- Ace was- there was a scar, but he was alive. She reached out to the still cuffed man and mumbled under her breath, the damage done to him fixed itself and he saw the blood that had seeped into her uniform, but then stopped spreading.

The retreat was called and she looked at Shanks, Luffy was in the man’s arms and they were headed towards a submarine. She had another mission to do, a self imposed one, she couldn’t follow her father, she couldn’t follow the friend she had made, she had to follow her own path, which started in a different direction. 

He eyes narrowed as she looked at Blackbeard’s crew and where Whitebeard was. It started there.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a Scottish last name. In Gaelic, it means "comely." It can also mean "child of the wise leader" and "born of fire." It's used as both a boys' and a girls' name but is more popular for girls.


End file.
